Hawke Squared
by Sujesstive
Summary: What if fraternal twins ran in the Hawke family? F!Rogue Marian and her twin brother, M!Mage Garrett Hawke must make decisions that will impact on their family, their new home in Kirkwall, and eventually the world. F!Hawke/Fenris, M!Hawke/Isabella
1. Of Ostagar and Wardens

**My name is Sujesstive, long time reader first time writer so reviews would be most appreciated ^.^ This particular plot bunny has been bouncing around my head for a while, demanding freedom so here it is:**

**Twins run in the Hawke line and F!Rogue Marian, and M!Mage Garrett Hawke are fraternal twins like Bethany and Carver. Marian is Direct/Aggressive and Garrett is Sarcastic/Charming. Thing that Garrett will become 'The Champion' merely because the Destiny trailer is too cool to ignore, so Marian will be the twin referred to as 'Hawke' and will decide the fates of Mages and Templars. Eventual pairings to be; F!Hawke/Fenris, M!Hawke/Isabella, Bethany/Anders and Bethany/Nathaniel, Carver/Merrill (or whoever's left, because let's face it, I don't like Carver enough to find him a one true love)**

**Note: In my fic the Hawkes have had to live on the move their whole lives, mostly due to three apostates in the family. When Marian was seventeen the family was living in Highever where she and her mother worked in the castle for the Cousland's. As the younger brother the, then seventeen year old, Aeden Cousland was the atypical second son of a noble family, and regularly slept with the staff. He and Marian developed a friendship that turned physical. When he slept with an Orlesian noblewoman she demanded to her father that they leave Highever and Aedan, angered by her sudden disappearance told the Templars that the Hawke's were apostates. They caught up to them in Redcliffe, killing Malcolm, but the rest escaped and made a life for themselves in Lothering. This is three years on...  
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**As we all know, Bioware owns all, I just borrow their toys for my sick little games.**

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><p><strong>Of Ostagar and Wardens<strong>

"I wish you'd stayed in Lothering," grumbled Carver as he unrolled his bedroll by the fire, shooting a poisonous glare at his older sister. The same piercing blue eyes glared back at him over the fire as Marian rested her weight to one side, hand on hips.

"Afraid I'll steal all the glory, Carver? Maker you sound like the bloody king," chastised the older sister, folding her legs beneath her in a graceful motion as she began to oil her armour.

"King Cailan is right, sister. There hasn't even been an Archdemon sighted. Who's to say this really is a Blight anyway?" Carver bit into a crust of bread, sending crumbs flying all over his bedding. Marian shook her head at her naive younger brother. She wished her twin was with her instead. Garret might have the same dry humour as Carver, but at least he wasn't as much an idiot, but both Garret, and Carver's twin, Bethany had to stay in Lothering. Being apostates didn't leave much room for running off to fight a horde of Darkspawn in the King's Army.

"Perhaps the order of warriors who have been fighting the Darkspawn for the last several hundred years. I'm sure that Grey Wardens have far more accurate ways of detecting a Blight, little brother," sneered Marian. Carver glared at his rogue sister. After his fifteenth summer, the boy that Marian used to beat up on had stopped being so small. Now he was a hulking brute of a man, with a great sword resting beside his bedroll. Marian could still beat up on him, however, now the task took a little more skill and dexterity on her part.

"What would you know about Grey Wardens?" snorted her brother. Marian didn't look up from her oiling as she smirked.

"I know that there is a new Grey Warden recruit arrived in camp. His name is Aeden Cousland," she added with a fond smile. Carver looked at his sly sister, stunned.

"How did you – "

"I'm a rogue, little brother. One must keep up their skills. He arrived here this afternoon, with the Warden Commander. I wonder how Teyrn Cousland ever let his little boy join the Wardens?"

"No one 'let' me," answered a voice from behind the siblings. Carver jumped, his hand on his sword in seconds as he turned to face their assailant. Marian just smiled, placing her freshly oiled cuirass beside her before rising to face the young Cousland.

"Good evening, Aeden," greeted Marian with a sad smile, looking up at the face of her one time lover and friend. He was just as handsome as ever, with his messy dark brown hair and deep green eyes, but there were dark lines around his eyes and lips that had never been there before. Marian recognised them for lines of grief.

"How did you get in the camp, Cousland?" growled Carver, placing his bulk between Marian and the young noble. Carver wasn't as stupid as everyone seemed to think. He knew full well that Marian had cried for three whole weeks when they'd left Highever, and it was all this stupid noble's fault.

"Your sister is not the only rogue at Ostagar, boy." Aeden glared up at the taller young man who snarled in response.

"Perhaps we should take a walk?" suggested Marian, peeking out from behind her brother's impressive bulk.

"But, Marian –"

"Don't you 'but, Marian' me, Carver," admonished Marian, her tone becoming that of the older sibling. "I'm quite capable of looking after myself if Aeden turns out to be an Emissary in disguise." With that Marian turned on her heel and stalked off behind some tents, Aeden following her into the darkness. Carver just growled to himself, settling himself into the bedroll, refusing to brood over his annoying older sister. He really wished she'd stayed in Lothering.

"You are looking…good, Marian."

"It's Hawke, Aeden. I stopped being called Marian a long time ago."

"I'd hazard a guess at about three years ago," guessed Aeden tentatively, his green eyes on her face as she watched her feet. Marian let out a ragged sigh.

"Yeah, about then." Aeden wished things were different. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and hold her, assuaging both her grief, old and scarred, and his, fresh and bleeding.

"For what it's worth, Marian, I'm so sorry."

"It's not worth much at all, Aeden." She turned to look up at him then, her blue eyes sad and brimming with unshed tears. "I trusted you, Aeden, maybe even loved you, and you betrayed all of that. You slept with that Orlesian sop of a woman because your father disapproved of your tryst with 'the help'."

"Marian, I-"

"No." Marian put up a finger to silence his apologies. "We've already been over this, Aeden, and I left. After all of that, after those months of love and friendship between us, after _you_ had betrayed _me_, you sent the Templars after my family." Marian looked away from him then, unable to see her own hurt mirrored in his green eyes.

"They came, Aeden. They caught up to us in Redcliffe. Father and I held them off long enough for everyone to run again. They killed father, and we barely got away, and not unscathed." Marian felt the scar across her abdomen itch with memory. She glared up at him. "You took _everything_ from me."

"Maker, Marian-"

"It's Hawke," she snarled, her eyes an icy blue that cut through Aeden's heart as sure as a sword.

"I know what I did was stupid, Hawke. I know that and you can't believe how much I regret everything I've done to you. I'm so sorry." He reached out a hand then, but Marian sidestepped his touch.

"Words are cheap, Cousland." She whirled on her heel and disappeared into the night, leaving Aeden alone in the King's camp, his wounds freshly reopened.

"I will prove to you that I am a better man, Marian Hawke," whispered Aeden into the unresponsive darkness. Determined, the young noble made his way back to the Warden encampment. He needed to rest if he was going into the Wilds tomorrow. Who knew what the Maker and the Darkspawn had in store for him?

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><p>"Did ya 'ear, Hawke? Two of t'Warden recruits died last night?" Marian was helping the Kennel Master feed the Mabari a potion he'd made from a Wilds' flower. The one she was tending now rolled on to his back, the tiny stub of his tail wagging in happiness as she rubbed his tummy.<p>

"I guess that must happen often," shrugged Marian. "I'm sure the Wardens don't let just anyone join their ranks."

"Aye, that be true, lassie," agreed the Kennel Master. He grinned at her, showing a few gaps where teeth had been knocked out be over zealous Mabari pups. "That 'un seems t'ave taken a shine t'ya, lass. I think he's imprinted on ya." Marian grinned back, excited at the prospect of having a Mabari. They were the most intelligent animals in Thedas, though they rarely imprinted on a peasant girl.

"You really think so?" The man nodded and Marian smiled at the dog who wagged his tail at her, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

"You want to come with me, boy?" The Mabari barked in agreement, the stub of a tail wagging ferociously.

"Alright then, boy, you can stay with old Marian Hawke, then. How would you like me to call you Cael?" Cael barked and bumped his head against her hand. "Cael it is, then," grinned Marian.

"Ya won't find a more loyal friend, Hawke." Marian grinned and thanking the Kennel Master returned to her camp to show off her new Mabari to Carver. Oh, he was going to hate her.

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><p>"Carver!" screamed Marian, her voice hoarse as the sound scratched its way up her parched throat. Her limbs burned with effort as she lopped off another Hurlock's head, grunting in pain as she put too much weight on one leg. Cael barked, drawing Marian's attention to the unconscious body of her brother.<p>

"Carver, no!" She screamed, forgetting all exhaustion as she ran to his limp body cutting down a Genlock on the way, Cael tearing out its throat when it hit the ground with a sickening thud. "Carver, you bastard, wake up!"

"Shut up, Marian," groaned the boy, eyes twitching. Marian almost cried in relief as she hugged her brother to her body. "Ugh, gerroff me."

"Carver, we have to go." Marian helped her brother stand, handing him his heavy sword once he was upright.

"But the king-"

"The king is dead, Carver. The Wardens are dead. Loghain betrayed us all. We have to get to Lothering, get Garret, Bethany and Mother and we have to run. The Darkspawn will be heading there now."

"Maker," whispered Carver as realization dawned on him. Without hesitation he lumbered after his sister.


	2. Fear and Lothering

**As always, Bioware owns everything - including me, and reviews are always welcome.**

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><p><strong>Fear and Lothering<strong>

It hadn't been an easy trip for Marian and Carver, their wounds now infected as they finally made it to Lothering, only to see it swelling with refugees and deserting soldiers like themselves. Carver was worse off than Marian and she was stuck hauling his hulking body to their little house on the far side of the little village, opposite the village to the Chantry.

The village was rank with fear. Marian could taste it on the wind. As she passed by the Chantry she caught a glimpse of short red hair as Sister Leliana smiled sadly at her from the dying rosebush. She was talking to a blonde Templar and handed him a beautiful red rose. The Templar seemed to smile softly at the flower, stroking its velvety petals with a sort of reverence.

Marian didn't miss the hulking, grey skinned Qunari man who sat cross-legged in a cage, facing the Wilds and the Darkspawn Horde that would come for the village, and eat him alive. He was politely conversing with a scantily clad dark haired woman who sat cross-legged, talking to him through the bars of his prison.

"Oh Maker, Carver!" squealed Bethany, running from their small house to her semi-conscious twin. Carver smiled lopsided at his twin sister, attempting a brave face in light of his wounds.

"Hey, Bethy," he whispered hoarsely.

"Oh, you great big fool," whispered Bethany, tears running down her cheeks as she helped Marian carry their brother into the house. "What did you do? Try and find every Hurlock's sword and stick yourself with it?"

"I wouldn't be surprised," grunted Marian as she deposited the brute on the bed, collapsing on the ground in exhaustion.

"Marian! Carver!" Their mother and Garrett both appeared in the door, wearing mirrored expressions of horror and fear.

"Thank the Maker you are both alive," gasped Leandra, pulling Marian into a bone-crushing hug.

"Ow, Mother. Bones. Broken," managed Marian.

"I'm sorry, dear." Leandra released her daughter, running to get some fresh water for her soldiering children.

"Beth," started Garrett as he peeled away Carver's heavy plate armour. "Do you think you can heal this? I'd try it, but I'd probably end up blowing the sodding fool into pieces. Far too tempting." Garrett flashed a quick lopsided smile, but Marian could see the raging fear in her twin's amber eyes.

Bethany gave a quick nod then and rolled up her sleeves. Marian watched Bethany heal Carver's wounds, waving her glowing blue hands over torn flesh, leaving it whole, if slightly pink. Bethany's healing was so much like father's it pained Marian somewhere deep in her chest to watch Bethany wield his magic.

"Marian." Garrett's voice was soft and close to her ear. Her twin brother tugged at her, pulling her into the room she and Bethany shared. "Marian, what happened? People are saying that the Wardens betrayed the King, turned on him in the final hour." Marian looked at her brother in horror.

"What? How can anyone believe that?" she whispered, aghast. "Were they Loghain's men?" Her brother nodded.

"He is declared Queen Anora's regent."

"That traitorous bastard," cursed Marian, flinching as she pulled at the wound in her side. "It's not true, Garrett. Loghain betrayed us. The Horde is coming this way. We need to leave."

"We can't leave, Marian. You and Carver both need to rest. You're injured-"

"Garrett if we rest, we will all die. Everyone in this village is going to die. We have to go. Now."


	3. To Outrun a Horde

**Once again the Maker and Bioware owns and controls us all. **

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><p><strong>To Outrun a Horde<strong>

They were running. They were running and Garrett's sides were burning with the effort. He wasn't as fast as Marian. No one was. One would think she was part-Mabari with how she and Cael kept ahead of them all. Bethany was keeping pace with him, Carver lagging behind with Leandra, due to his injuries.

Leandra tripped and that's when Garrett first heard it; the excited whispers of Darkspawn. Their stench fouled the air with their whispers and the older mage nearly retched at the stench.

"Mother," cried Bethany and Garrett could see that the scouts were close to Leandra. At the same time he and Bethany cast a wall of fire, burning the darkspawn, the flames erupting a foul putrid smoke. Marian came out of nowhere, swords flashing as she cut one of the beasts in half, Carver sliding in beside her with his great sword cleaving two more.

Garrett bent to help their mother up and she dusted herself off.

"Maker, save us," she whispered, her amber eyes on Garrett, wide and fearful. "We've lost everything. Everything your father and I-"

"We have to get out of here while we still can," interrupted Marian, wiping the Darkspawn filth from her blades as she sheathed them.

"Marian-" started Garrett, glaring at his twin, but their mother's placating hand rested on his arm.

"She is right. We have to get moving."

"Why did we wait so long?" thought Bethany out loud, turning to her twin brother for support, but Carver reared on the defensive.

"Why are you looking at us? We've been running since Ostagar." Garrett looked behind him at the remnants of the Darkspawn scouting party looking for a way around the fire wall.

"Not to interrupt, but the Blight's not going to wait while we stand around chatting," interjected Garrett, turning his amber eyes back on his siblings. Leandra smiled at her son, the very image of Malcolm, but for her amber eyes.

"Please, listen to your brother," begged Leandra, weak from exhaustion.

"Well then, lead on," scoffed Carver, fixing his elder brother with an angry glare. Garrett narrowed his eyes at the younger Hawke.

"Men," cursed Marian, jogging on ahead again, Cael at her ankles.

"Wait," called Bethany, making Marian roll her eyes as she turned to face her family once more. "Where are we going?" asked Bethany, brows furrowed.

"Away from the Darkspawn. Where else?" scoffed Carver, rolling his blue eyes At his twin.

"And then, where? We can't just wander."

"As long as we're wandering away from the Darkspawn, I don't mind," muttered Garrett, more to himself than the young mage.

"We stay alive," declared Marian, walking toward her younger siblings. "That's the only thing we need to worry about right now."

"We could go to Kirkwall," suggested Leandra. Garrett and Bethany just looked at their mother shocked.

"Well, that wouldn't be my first choice," said Garrett, shaking his head.

"What? Why would we go there?" demanded Marian, looking at her mother as if the woman had fallen and hit her head on something hard.

"There's a _lot_ of Templars in Kirkwall, mother," added Bethany, subconsciously edging toward her hulking twin brother.

"I know that, but we still have family there and an estate." Bethany sighed in defeat and shook her head.

"Then we need to get to Gwaren and take ship," finalised Bethany, shoulder's slumped. Garrett put a reassuring hand on his sister's arm. They hidden in cities before. It was much easier than trying to hide in a tiny village.

"If we survive that long," grumbled Carver, walking off before Marian could get the chance to do so. "I'll just be happy to get out of here." Cael barked a warning, making them all turn. Garrett pushed Leandra in behind him as the stench hit him all over again.

"Darkspawn," spat Marian, unsheathing her daggers. With a curt nod, she and Carver ran into the band of wraiths, cutting a path through their numbers. Garrett called down lightning from the storm clouds overhead and Bethany froze the beasts where they stood.

The sounds of another battle reached the family's ears and Marian turned to see a red haired woman and a Templar fighting another band of Darkspawn. She was almost tempted to leave them to their own battle when one Hurlock sliced open the Templar's side, making the fool man drop his shield.

The red haired woman roared and tackled the Hurlock to the ground, slamming her fist into its hideous face repeatedly. She grabbed her sword off the ground and plunged into the Hurlock's face, spraying herself with the dark sticky blood.

"You will not have him," she growled. She leapt from the creature's corpse and took up the Templar's shield. She heaved him to his feet, her emerald eyes boring into his brown ones. "They will not have you," she whispered, as fervently as a Chantry sister.

Marian leapt into the fray with Carver at her back, their swords spray the air with Darkspawn blood. Garrett felt the earth beneath his feet rumble as Bethany sent the earth crashing into the archers. Garrett cast a few entropic spells on the scouts, draining them of energy and making them easy prey for his siblings and the red haired soldier.

As the last Hurlock fell, Garrett turned his attention on the couple they had rescued. The man was twitching under the soldier's hands while she tried to bandage the wound.

"Stop squirming, Wesley," admonished the woman, in a stern, motherly voice. "You will make it worse." Finally she helped in up and he glared at Bethany and Garrett, no doubt his Templar senses tingling with the feel of their magic.

"Apostate," spat the Templar. "Keep your distance."

"Oh, the Maker has a sense of humour. First Darkspawn and now a Templar. I thought they'd all abandoned Lothering," sneered Bethany from behind Garrett. Wesley's eyes remained on the older mage.

"The Spawn are clear in their intent, but the mage is always unknown. The Order dictates…" The Templar moved toward the two mages with determination.

"Wesley," sighed the red haired woman, shaking her head at the Templar.

"They are apostates," explained Wesley, trying to make the woman see. "The Order dictates.." Marian stepped in between the Templar and her siblings, her daggers still drawn and dripping with Darkspawn blood. Carver stepped in behind her, hand on his great sword wearing a ferocious snarl.

"Dear," placated the red haired woman, a calming hand on his shoulder. "They saved us. The Maker understands." Despite her calm words, Wesley continued to stare down Marian, her eyes icy blue as she glared daringly at the Templar. She'd suffered worse than he before, she thought to herself, hands tightening on the hilts of her blades.

"Of course," Wesley finally relented, stepping away to stand by the soldier who stepped forward with a weary smile.

"I am Aveline Vallen, and this is my husband, Ser Wesley," introduced the red haired woman, grasping wrists with Marian in the ancient sign of camaraderie. Aveline threw a meaningful look at her husband. "We can all hate each other when we're safe from the horde."

"The might of the Templars is fearsome indeed," scoffed Garrett, directing a glare at her bigoted husband, making Bethany smirk.

"So long as you know I stand with Bethany and Garrett, Templar," warned Marian, her eyes a fearsome blue. The Templar traded looks with his wife before nodding.

"Understood."

"For now we move with you," declared Aveline. "The road to the north is cut off. We barely escaped the body of the Horde."

"Then we're trapped," cursed Carver, kicking a stone out of his way. Leandra hid her face in her hands, shaking her head as she buried herself in her eldest son's arms. "The Wilds are to the south and that's no way out." Carver directed his tirade at Marian who watched him, hands on hips with a warning glare.

"Well I'm not running straight into the horde," spat Marian, shouldering past Carver. "We go south." Marian didn't look back to see if her family were following. Garrett and Leandra moved first, putting their faith in Marian's good sense. Aveline and Wesley followed them and Bethany approached Carver.

"Come on, brother," encouraged the mage, placing a hand on his arm. "It's best we stick together."

"What's it matter anyway? Why bother saying anything? Everyone just listens to Marian anyway. No one ever listens to me," grumbled her twin as he dragged his feet.

"Maybe because she doesn't act like a child when she's making a point," retorted Bethany, earning herself an icy blue glare.

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><p>The ogre crashed to the ground with a loud thud, Marian clinging to her daggers embedded in its neck. The beast twitched and Garrett pulled forth energy from the Fade, grasping the beast with spirit magic and he tore the beast in two, showering both himself and Marian with ogre blood.<p>

"Really, Garrett?" cried Marian, as she stalked up to her twin, dripping in Darkspawn blood. "Let's just blow giant sodding Darkspawn up!" Garrett burst out laughing.

"I'm-I'm sorry," he managed through laughing fits. "I just can't take you seriously looking you just took a bath in Darkspawn blood."

"Sorry to interrupt," interjected Carver, drawing their attention to the large horde of Darkspawn moving their way.

"There's no end to them," lamented a drained Bethany slumped against a boulder with their mother and a haggard looking Wesley. Marian gritted her teeth, taking up position with Carver and Aveline, ready to battle the horde.

Something roared behind them, startling the little band of Blight survivors. From behind them a dragon reared, taking wing on the air. The Hurlocks below whispered in fear, scattering before the great beast. Those too slow to run fell under the dragon's flames. The dragon turned in the air, doubling back toward the group. It crushed a few stragglers in powerful, razor sharp claws before a blinding light forced them all to look away.

When they turned to face the dragon, weapons drawn the creature had disappeared, an eerily beautiful woman standing in its place. Her hair was white and swept back in an imitation of the dragon's sweeping horns. In her clawed gauntlet she still held the limp body of a Hurlock as she strode toward them with a seductive gait, an ironic smile on her lips and her swirling yellow eyes flashing wild and dangerous.

"Well, well, what have we here?" drawled the old woman as she drew close to the armed warriors. She smiled as she stepped inside Garrett's personal space, her cat like eyes enveloping his vision as she inspected him like a sheep at market.

A clatter of plate armour drew their attention and Aveline ran to a collapsing Wesley. The older woman seemed uninterested in the Templar, her attention solely on Garrett and Marian.

"Used to be we never got visitors in the Wilds, but now it seems they arrive in hordes," smirked the woman as she sized up the older Hawke twins.

"Impressive. Where'd you learn to turn into a dragon?" smirked Garrett. Flemeth chuckled as she eyed the carved staff on Garrett's back.

"Perhaps I am a dragon," shrugged the woman, leaning in closer to Garrett. The mage gulped, making Flemeth smile. "If so, count yourselves lucky that the smell of burning Darkspawn does nothing for the appetite. If you wish to flee the Darkspawn you should know you are heading in the wrong direction." The woman turned on her heel and began walking away.

"Wait!" called Bethany, striking forward ahead of her older siblings. "You can't just leave us here."

"Can I not?" muttered the woman to herself, turning to regard the family. "I spotted a most curious sight. A mighty ogre, vanquished. Who could perform such a feat? But now my curiosity is sated and you are safe, for the moment. Is that not enough?"

"You could show us that trick of yours," suggested Garrett with a shrug. "That looks useful." The woman chuckled.

"A mage with a sense of humour. You, I like. Tell me, clever mage, how do intend to outrun the Blight?"

"We need to get to Kirkwall, in the Free Marches," interrupted Marian. For some reason she didn't like the predatory way the old dragon-woman eyed her twin brother.

"Kirkwall? My, that is quite the voyage you're planning. Your king will not miss you, hmm?" The yellow cat eyes were on Marian now.

"The king is dead," shrugged Marian, unfazed by the woman's curious gaze. The strange woman smiled, tapping a gauntleted hand against her lips.

"Hurtled into the chaos you fight and the world will shape before you." Garret and Marian looked at one another, brows furrowed in confusion. She turned away from them, then, looking off into the distance. "Is it fate or chance? I can never decide," whispered the woman to herself. She seemed to have made a decision of some sort, turning back to face the Hawkes.

"It appears fortune smiles on us both today. I may be able to help you yet."

"There must be a catch?" answered Garrett warily. The woman laughed again.

"There is always a catch," she observed. "Life is a catch. I suggest you catch it while you can."

"Maybe we shouldn't trust her?" offered Carver from behind them.

"We don't even know what she is," agreed Bethany, taking up side with Carver.

"I know what she is," interjected Aveline from where she was nursing Wesley's wounds. "The Witch of the Wilds." The words sent a shiver of superstition down Marian's spine.

"Some call me that," shrugged the witch. "Also Flemeth, Asha'Bellanar and Old-Hag-Who-Talks-Too-Much. Does it matter? I offer you this; I will get your group pass the Horde in exchange for a simple delivery to a place not far out of your way. Would you do this for a Witch of the Wilds?"

"Should we trust her?" questioned Marian, ever practical, Cael growled from behind her legs.

"Wesley is injured," offered Aveline, tending to her squirming husband. "We'll never escape the Darkspawn."

"If you need to," whispered Wesley weakly, his brown eyes holding Aveline's. "Leave me behind."

"No!" growled Aveline, shaking her gore splattered hair. "I said I would drag you out if I had to and I meant it." Wesley smiled weakly at his wife squeezing her hand.

"Roast a few more Darkspawn for me and I'll do anything you like," shrugged Garrett, looking to his twin for the final word on the matter. Finally Marian sheathed her daggers and shrugged, stepping toward the witch.

"I have to reach Kirkwall first," she warned, eliciting a smirk from Flemeth.

"But you will do it," replied Flemeth with absolute certainty in her drawling voice. "There is a clan of Dalish elves camped near the city of Kirkwall. Deliver this amulet to their Keeper, Marethari." Flemeth produced an oricalchum and lyrium locket that hummed with a sinister energy. Marian narrowed her eyes at the trinket, feeling the tingle of dark magic dance across her skin as she took the amulet and pocketed it in her leather armour.

"Do as she asks with it and any debt between us will be paid in full," finalised Flemeth, her wild eyes steady on Marian's face. With a nod the witch turned her attention on the rest of the group.

"Before I take you anywhere, however, there is another matter." The witch's eyes fell in Wesley, a look that Aveline didn't miss. The soldier stood between her fallen husband and the dragon-witch.

"No," she growled, her green eyes fierce. "Leave him alone."

"What has been done to your man is within his blood already," shrugged Flemeth, not at all fazed by the shield maiden.

"You lie!" screamed Aveline, drawing her sword on the witch, the blade barely a millimetre from Flemeth's throat.

"She's right, Aveline," gasped Wesley, wheezing another cough. "I can feel the corruption inside me."

"I take it this corruption is the permanent sort," scoffed Garrett, eyeing the Templar with an instinctual disgust. Marian waved her twin quiet.

"We can't afford that kind of liability," reasoned Marian. Despite her harsh, practical words her eyes were soft and compassionate as she looked at Aveline.

"No," cried Aveline, shaking her head, but she sheathed her sword, turning back to her beloved.

"The only cure I know of is to become a Grey Warden." Aveline's shoulders slumped at that. She'd been at Ostagar. The Wardens were dead.

"And they all died at Ostagar," sighed Marian, watching Aveline fight tears as she looked into her husband's dying eyes.

"Not all," argued Flemeth. "But the last are now beyond your reach."

"Aveline," wheezed Wesley. "Listen to me-"

"You can ask me this," protested Aveline, tears beginning to run down her cheeks. "I won't!"

"Please," begged Wesley, his eyes boring into her's. "The corruption is a slow death. I can't…" Marian knelt beside the couple, taking Aveline's hand in her own. Aveline's tear stained eyes looked up at the rogue whose own blue eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

"He's your husband, Aveline. I can't decide his fate." Aveline nodded once, setting her jaw as she stared into Marian's compassionate eyes.

"Be strong…my love," whispered Wesley, reaching up a weak hand to rest it on her blood stained cheek. With his other hand he pulled free his skinning knife, placing it above his chest. One final tear rolled down Aveline's cheek as she wrapped her hands around his hand and the hilt of the knife. Unable to watch, she closed her eyes as she plunged the blade into her husband's chest.

Garrett had to give the Templar credit. He didn't even cry out as the blade struck his heart. The man merely stared at his wife's face until his eyes could see no more. Aveline reached over and closed his eyelids, making it look as if he were asleep, but for the growing red stain on his Chantry tunic. Aveline rose then, moving away from his body, her face determined.

"Without an end, there can be no peace," consoled Flemeth. "It gets no easier," warned the witch. "Your struggles have only just begun."


	4. The City of Traitors

**I broke into Bioware's little box of goodies and stole these characters for my own review.  
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><p><strong>The City of Traitors<strong>

Gwaren was just as big as Highever had been, only now its walls were packed to overflowing with refugees from the Blight. The Hawkes and Aveline were lucky to even get into the city, but now they waited on the docks, starving an exhausted for a boat to take them to Kirkwall.

Money was the problem. The had none. Marian had sold whatever they didn't need in order to feed them, but the leftover silver pieces were not enough to buy passage on any ship in Gwaren's harbour. It never stopped the eldest Hawke twins from frequenting the local pubs, hoping for wither work or passage on a boat.

That's when Garrett saw her; Isabella. She had dusky skin and long black hair knotted and braided in some barbaric fashion down her back, and held off her exotic face with a blue scarf. She wore boots that travelled well up to her thighs and a short dress and bodice that looked to be made out of sailcloth. On her back were two exotic, gold inlaid daggers.

"You cheated!" accused the man she'd been playing cards with. The pirate grinned wickedly at the man as she pocketed his coin.

"I did not. And even if I did, you couldn't prove it," gloated the woman, throwing back a shot of whiskey before rising from her chair. The man grabbed her wrist, baring his teeth at her with a growl.

"You will pay me back, Isabella. One way or another." Garrett didn't quite like the dangerous tone his voice took on and he began to push through the throng toward the woman and her assailant.

"Sweetheart," drawled Isabella, pressing herself close to the man with a seductive smile. "Not for all the gold in Thedas." Faster than Garrett's eye could move the pirate twisted free of the man's grip, flipping over him in a spectacular show of dexterity, and brought her daggers to sit across his throat. What amazed Garrett even more was in the whole time she had managed to flash nothing more than a bit of thigh.

Isabella was wearing the same wicked look Marian got sometimes when she was about to hurt someone. She whispered something into the man's ear before letting him go. Terrified the loser scrambled for the door and Isabella sheathed her daggers, her amber eyes catching Garrett's incredulous admiration.

"Well, hello, there," smiled Isabella, looking the mage up and down. Garrett felt a little uncomfortable under her predatory gaze. Was this how he and Carver had made women feel? Maker he felt bad for those leers now.

"Don't look so frightened, Fereldan. Come and sit with Isabella," invited the pirate with a slow, sly grin. Garrett obeyed and swallowed a dry lump in his throat as she leant forward over the table, her impressive breasts jingling like Orlesian jewels. "So, what's your name?"

"Hawke, Garret Hawke," he managed, thankful his voice hadn't blown out like some pubescent teenager. He flashed an awkward, half smile that made her yellow eyes light up as she looked hungrily at his lips.

"Pleased to meet you, Hawke. I am Captain Isabella." Realisation dawned on Garrett then and he grinned.

"Captain? Then are you transporting refugees to the Free Marches?" Isabella groaned and leaned back in her chair, lazily pouring herself another whiskey.

"Is that all anyone in Fereldan cares about? Maker, it is so hard to get laid in this country," grumbled the pirate. Garrett's cheeks flushed at the thought of sleeping with her. She looked as if she'd been handcrafted by a Desire demon just to tempt and tease men.

"I'm…sorry?" Isabella sighed.

"Look I might have some spare room in my ship's hold, but I don't want any layabout refugees. Have you even been on a ship before?" Her whole demeanour had turned businesslike.

"Do I look like a fat noble? My family and I are well used to hard work," assured Garrett, flashing her his most handsome lopsided grin.

"If you had blonde hair, a tattoo on your cheek, long ears and an Antivan accent I'd think you were Zevran, the extortionist," sighed Isabella. "Wait did you say 'family'?"

"Garrett, you sodding half-ogre, nug-humping, son of an Orlesian hermaphrodite," exclaimed Marian as she shoved a man out of her way, sending the brute toppling over a table.

"Oi!" protested the man as he rolled onto the floor, but Marian just shot him her most murderous glare.

"Shut it, you sod." She turned her glare back on her brother where he sat drinking with…well, to be honest she looked like a prostitute, but for the blades on her back. "By the sodding Void, Garrett. I've been looking for you. We're leaving. This place has no one useful. Who's this?"

Isabella grinned at the dark haired rogue, sizing her up just as she had Garrett. The must be siblings, thought Isabella. How tasty to have the set.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Captain Isabella and I was about to hire your brother onto my ship." Marian grinned then, deciding that while she might look like a prostitute she had a sudden liking for this woman.

"Marian," introduced the female twin. "I'm Garrett's twin sister."

"A pleasure," drawled Isabella as she sipped her whiskey, eyes dark with desire. "How many Hawkes are there. Marian shoved her brother across and took up a seat.

"Including us there is a total of six. I'm not sure what help our sister and mother will be, but myself, Garrett, our brother, Carver, and our friend, Aveline, are more than capable of work."

"Well I'll be going to Kirkwall? Is that a problem?" Marian grinned and shook her head. "Then, it's a deal. Let's seal it with a drink," proclaimed Isabella, grinning at the two delicious twins seated before her. They both coughed and patted their chests when the whiskey hit their throats, making Isabella smile. Two weeks on her ship and they'd be able to throw down whiskey like they were Llomerryn born and bred.


	5. A Night of Escape

**So I may have 'borrowed' Hawke and Cullen from Bioware for this little piece because they both need a little love. Warning: smuttiness ahead.**

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><p><strong>A Night of Escape<strong>

"I always wanted to be a Blighted smuggler," grumbled Garrett as he unpacked what belongings they'd been able to take with them across the Waking Sea to Kirkwall.

"Oh, shut it, Garrett," groaned Marian as she deposited her's on the bunk she would share with Bethany in their uncle's tiny little Lowtown hovel. "Don't you think having to listen to Carver's whining is enough? We had no other option unless you wanted to stay in the Gallows, with all of those Templars roaming about." Garrett shuddered. It had taken all of his self-control not set those skirt wearing bastards aflame.

They had arrived in Kirkwall, fresh from the _Siren's Call_ to find the city closed off to refugees, the Fereldans all, but climbing the black granite walls to get in. They'd had to fight off roaming gangs of desperate refugees like animals, to keep them from stealing their food or their fire. The refugees were worse than the Horde in Marian's opinion.

Finally, after three days of waiting and starving their uncle had deigned to visit them in the Gallows, only to bestow on them such happy tidings. There was no estate. There was no money. The sodding lout had squandered the Amell fortune on Maker knew what.

Oh, but he had a plan, brilliant in all its utter stupidity. He could get someone else to pay their way into the city. Only one tinsy-winsy catch; the four Hawke siblings would have to work for a smuggler for at least a year to pay off the debt.

Who said slavery only existed in Tevinter? Apparently the City of Chains, the former capital of the Tevinter slave trade boasted many criminal gangs who employed similar techniques. Athenril's term 'indentured servitude' didn't sound any different to slavery to Marian's ears, but then again, she didn't have the elf's ears. Maybe it sounded different with bigger ears.

"At least Athenril can keep them off our backs for the year," admitted Garrett. Marian nodded curtly. She knew that they'd have to figure something out when their indentured servitude drew to a close. It wouldn't take long for the Templars to come knocking on their hovel door.

"We'll figure something out, Garrett. No Templar is getting their hands on you," promised Marian in a fearsome voice. Garrett grinned at his twin and hugged her tightly, ignoring her squeal of protest.

"No more running, unless we really have to, right?" asked Garrett. Marian smiled fondly at her twin and nodded. Maker knew she was heartily sick of running.

"This is our home now," promised Marian and Garrett grinned at her.

"Well, we only have one night of freedom in the City of Chains, I think this calls for some heavy drinking, don't you?" Marian smiled. Her brother knew just how to cheer her up. "I know there is a pub down this street somewhere called the Hanged Man."

"Pleasant," mumbled Marian. "Did you hear about it from your pirate wench?" Garrett's ears turned pink at the mention of Isabella.

"Yes, and she wasn't my wench, Marian. Isabella was rather adamant about no sex for her hired help," added Garrett as he pushed his twin out the door and into the windy Lowtown alley where Gamlen's 'house' was.

"Well, I am sure you can find an outlet for all your sexual tensions tonight, hmm, brother? The women of Kirkwall best beware your charms," smirked Marian as she ducked Garrett's fist, running off toward the Hanged Man.

"And you're much better, Marian Hawke?"

"Of course, brother. I have more experience," she retorted with a smirk. Garrett groaned. He knew how other men saw his sister, but that didn't mean he really enjoyed their leers. After a few bruises and one broken jaw, Garrett learned to stay out of Marian's business. She was not rather receptive to fatherly lectures from her equally promiscuous twin.

The first thing Marian noticed about the Hanged Man was that it stank of piss and vomit. Once she ordered an ale and took a sip, she was no longer sure if it was the alcohol that smelt that way or the inebriated men.

"This tastes like dragon's piss," spluttered Garrett as he put his mug down. "You know what…I think it is," he added upon further inspection. Marian chuckled and emptied her mug. Two weeks on Isabella's ship had taught her not to be picky about her ale.

"Only a Fereldan could finish that mug off," remarked a deep voice from behind her and Marian turned to see a rather handsome man with short coppery hair and soft brown eyes. Marian chewed on her bottom lip as she took in his wide, muscular build.

"Are we that easy to spot?" remarked Marian, gesturing for the stranger to take a seat. Garrett rolled his eyes and moved off to the bar. He had seen a pretty little barmaid by the name of Norah that he was sure he could get into bed.

"Only to a fellow dog lord," joked the man sitting beside Marian with a thud. Marian eyed him appreciatively, his muscular torso and arms noticeable under the thin cotton of his tunic. "I am Cullen, by the way."

"Marian," smiled the rogue. "So you fled the Blight also?"

"I fled many things," he answered cryptically making Marian narrow her blue eyes while she smiled.

"I hate riddles," exclaimed Marian, making Cullen chuckle.

"You seem very straight forward for a woman," grinned Cullen, his own eyes darkening as he took in her full appearance. He quelled the rising guilt in his stomach, the feeling that he was betraying Solona by even looking at this beautiful woman who resembled his beloved mage in so many ways. He looked away from Marian, suppressing the despair that rose when he realised Solona Amell had the same bright blue eyes. Void take Uldred and his blood crazed followers.

"What is the use in taking the long way," shrugged Marian. "I'm sure if you preferred a more…round about woman you would have already left." Her voice dropped an octave in a way that made Cullen's breath hitch. She might share Solona's appearance, but this Marian was far more devious in nature.

"You are rather forward," remarked Cullen with a smirk.

"And you, serrah, are rather backward. I am sure we could fix that." He caught her eyes, darkened with lust and Cullen dove in, consequences and lost loves be damned. He plundered her mouth with his, eager to forget the fresh agony of losing Solona to Uldred's machinations. His hands tangled in her short dark hair and she returned his kisses eagerly, trying to forget her own sorrows deep within the taste of his lips.

Finally they pulled apart and Marian ran a tongue over her bruised lips, looking up at a flushed Cullen through her lashes.

"Shall we?"

If Marian had not been a fast woman, Cullen wasn't entirely sure he'd have made it to the rooms above the Hanged Man. The moment the door closed behind them, Marian's lips were on his own, tasting sweet and musky. He groaned as he crushed the small woman against his larger bulk, her taut rogue's muscles feeling so very different from Solona's soft body. Marian's toned body and insistent lips made all memories of Solona disappear, Cullen's whole world consumed only by the rogue in his arms.

Skilled fingers tugged at the laces on his breeches and Cullen groaned into her mouth as her hand slipped into his smalls, pressing with soft fingers against his hardness. Never before had he been with a woman so bold in her wantonness and that boldness seemed so suddenly arousing.

Cullen pulled her fencer's shirt over her head and undid her breast band with practised fingers, revelling in the feel of her naked breasts against his hand. He rubbed a callused finger over her erect nipple and she gasped at the touch. Cullen smiled against her lips as he trailed kisses across her jaw to her ear, gently tugging it with his teeth.

Marian moaned at his touch and pulled off his own shirt, marvelling at the hard planes of his warrior's body. With unexpected force Marian pushed Cullen and he fell on his back on the bed. She was grinning wickedly at him as she slowly pulled off her boots, throwing them across the room. Cullen followed suit and tugged his off far more roughly before tossing them.

Marian's eyes locked with his as she slowly and sensually began to untie her leggings, slowly pulling them off, one leg at a time. Cullen couldn't wait for her any longer, his hardness throbbing almost painfully for touch.

He grabbed the little rogue by the waist and pulled her onto the bed with him, rolling them both so he was above. He worked himself out of his leggings quickly while he kissed her throat and collarbone. His fingers trailed down her flat, tight stomach, lightly brushing over her smalls as she whimpered at his touch. With a growl, Cullen all, but ripped her smalls into pieces, kicking off his own and placing himself at her entrance.

Her eyes, so similar to Solona's were dark with lust now, her face flushed and lips bruised with his kisses. Without allowing himself the option to escape, Cullen plunged himself into her in one hard thrust, groaning at the tightness of her walls against his hard member, while she gasped at the sudden intrusion.

Cullen began with a slow rhythm, sliding in and out of her sheath and trailing kisses across her shoulders and breasts.

"Oh, Maker," she whimpered against his throat, her cries becoming more and more insistent as he quickened his pace. He could feel the heat in his loins looking for an outlet, but he held on for as long as he could. He wanted to hear her screams.

Suddenly Marian arched her back into Cullen, breasts pressed against his chest. She shuddered beneath him, her walls contracting around his hardness as she screamed for the Maker beneath him. He lost himself in her cries, driving forth with one hard shuddering thrust, spilling himself into her core.

Depleted and satisfied he rolled of her, pulling the woman against his chest and covering them both with a blanket. After planting a kiss on her forehead he fell into a restful sleep; the kind of sleep he'd been denied in the three weeks since Solona Amell had died at Uldred's hands, the Warden too late to save her.


	6. A One Year Montage

**I'm merely playing with Bioware's toys and I promise to put them back after. As always, please review.  
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**A One Year Montage**

_One Month_

"By the Maker, it's freezing," grumbled a man behind Marian, making the rogue roll her eyes. These Kirkwallers were so very sensitive to the cold, rugged up in furs and leathers for the Kirkwall winter. She and Bethany were clad in little more than the armour Athenril had supplied the Hawke siblings with.

"Bloody Fereldans, bringing your bad weather with you," continued the wining man.

"Quit your grumbling, Samael," warned Marian, shooting the thug an icy glare. "It's barely even winter and you're grumbling about a bit of frost. In Fereldan we get snowed under by blizzards for half the year."

"Don't order me about, dog lord," spat the smuggler. Marian gritted her teeth and popped her knuckles. This man was asking for it. The other three men she and Bethany had been lumped with had learned quick enough that Marian Hawke was not a woman to cross on her best day, and today was far from her best day.

Without warning she spun, slamming her fist deep into Samael's jaw, sending the larger man reeling, crashing into the crates behind him. He looked up at her, face contorted in shock and anger as he spat out a mouthful of blood, and possibly a tooth or two. Kirkwallers knew nothing of dental hygiene.

"You'll pay for that, bitch," growled Samael as he stumbled to his feet. Marian dropped down into her rogue stance, ready for whatever the man could throw at her. She'd got into plenty of scraps in Fereldan against far larger and smarter brutes than this one. Marian grinned, ready.

Sameal swung a hay-maker at the rogue, but she easily dodged his clumsy swing, spinning out of reach before slamming her foot into his other cheek. Marian was dancing on her toes, reveling in the adrenaline that coursed through her veins. She hadn't got herself into any decent fight since arriving in Kirkwall and the familiar dance of fists made her grin manically.

"Come on, Samael," taunted Marian. "Don't you have enough fight in you to take down a dog lord bitch?" Samael roared, launching himself at her in what would have been a bone breaking tackle. However he grabbed at nothing, but air before a swift kick from Marian toppled him face first into the cobblestones.

Without hesitation Marian leapt onto his back, digging her knees into the nerve centers in his triceps. She wound her fingers through his greasy hair, pulling his neck back so she could whisper in his ear.

"No more trying my patience, Samael. Next time I'll break something," she warned, her voice low and dangerous. Bloodied and missing a few teeth, Samael could do nothing, but nod in agreement with the ferocious Fereldan woman.

"Good boy," she cooed, leaping from his back and helping the man to his feet. "Now unless anyone else has any point to prove, how about we get back to work? That lyrium ain't gonna smuggle itself, now is it?"

Without waiting for a response from the men, Marian stalked off, her sister quick on her heels.

"Well, congratulations, sister," muttered Bethany, just loud enough for Marian to hear. "They're all pretty terrified of you now."

"If that fear keeps them in line, who am I to complain?" shrugged Marian, flashing her sister a wicked grin, eliciting Bethany's soft smile in response. If anything, all this smuggling would at least harden Bethany up a bit. The poor girl was too soft and innocent for reality.

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><p><em>Three Months<em>

Garret fidgeted, uncomfortable in his hiding place. It didn't help that he was crammed into the tiny little alleyway with his great brute of a brother, Carver, who fidgeted even more than the elder Hawke.

They were hiding in a dark hole somewhere deep in Darktown, watching one of the tunnel entrances. This particular tunnel belong to Athenril's gang and was used to smuggle lyrium into the Gallows for the addicted Templars, but lately a rival gang had taken to slipping through these tunnels for their own smuggling.

Garrett knew that in the shadows somewhere closer to the tunnel sat Marian. She had melted into the shadows like a wraith and even Garrett's magically enhanced eyes could not pick her from the darkness.

Soft footfalls signaled the rival gang's arrival and Garrett felt himself tense as Carver pulled free his great sword with such silence Garrett could not believe possible from the clumsy oaf. Carver stepped in front of his older brother silently, tense and ready for battle. They were to wait until Marian showed herself before they attacked.

"Well, well, well," came Marian's dangerous drawl, startled the fifteen smugglers who practically wet themselves as she appeared out of the shadows like a demon. "You've been stealing, boys."

"No we haven't" argued an older man, most likely the leader of this sad little business venture. "This is a public tunnel." Marian smiled dangerous, her eyes an icy blue as she approached the leader, running her hunting knife over her knuckles in a display of dexterity.

"Sweeting, this is not a public tunnel. Nothing in Darktown is 'public'. Everything belongs to someone and this belongs to a dear friend of mine who is rather insistent that you all die for your trespass."

"Please, messere," stuttered the man. "We didn't know." Marian grinned at that.

"Oh, you knew. You just didn't care. Such a lack of manners," clucked Marian turning away from the man then, displaying her confidence and arrogance. She had all of her available senses trained on his presence behind her and grinned when she felt his posture shift. Before he could attack, Marian screamed; "Now!"

She spun and brought her hunting knife down, embedding the blade deep into his throat, spraying herself with his arterial blood. He stumbled forward a few times before he fell with a thud at her feet. Grinning, Marian drew her daggers leaping into the fray with Carver.

Garrett called down fire and lightning on the smugglers, burning them from the inside out. One man got too close and Garrett rushed past his defenses, slamming a hand onto the man's forehead, his hands glowing with magic as he branded the man. Screaming the man ran back to his comrades only to explode in a spray of blood and gore.

Garrett was just as fast as Marian with his staff, cutting down any man foolish enough to engage him one on one, and helping dispatch others with his magic. Carver tore through men with his mean sword, drawing most of the attention from the poorly trained thugs. While Carver kept them distracted and Garrett bombarded them with flames and lightning, Marian danced in and out of the shadows, ensuring every blow exposed a weakness for one of her brother's to expose. A sharp slice through a heel there, a cut through the material of their armour here and the trio made easy work of the small gang.

Satisfied with their work, Marian sheathed her daggers, flipping her long fringe from her eyes. She cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders, glad to work out her tensions in a fight. Living with Gamlen would try even the Grand Cleric's infinite patience and since her mother forbade her from stabbing him, stabbing rival gang members was nearly as satisfying.

"A drink?" offered Marian, making her brother's grin as they nodded. Ale was definitely in order.

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><p><em>Six Months<em>

"The Gallows! Are you insane?" whispered Garrett, digging his nails into his twin's arm. "I've been working pretty damned hard the last six months to _stay out of the sodding Gallows_."

"Then don't come, brother," shrugged Marian, unfazed by Garrett's fear induced rage. "If you're too afraid of the Templars than I'll just take Carver."

"Oh, because that will end well. You need to be quiet and discreet. What in the Maker's name is quiet and discreet about Carver?"

"Look, Athenril gave me the job because she knew I could do it, Garrett. Either you're with me or you're not," sneered Marian, tearing her arm free of her brother's iron grip. She gave her brother one last meaningful glare before she lept into the harbour, swimming toward the Gallows on the far shore.

Garrett balled his hands into fists and with a sigh he slid his staff into its strap across his back. Maker help him, but he wasn't going to leave Marian at the Templars' mercy for a second time in his life. He dove in after the rogue, bit back a yelp as the cold water bit at his skin. At least it wasn't winter, he thought to himself. Thank the Maker for small gifts.

His chest and arms were burning with effort by the time he reached the Gallows' dock. Marian was already out, crouched under the shadow of the wall and she grinned at him once he joined her.

"I knew you'd come," she gloated and Garrett fixed her with his most poisonous glare.

"Yeah, well I can't say the thought of breaking in and out of the Gallows doesn't intrigue me. We can call it a practice run in case they ever get their paws on me or Bethany," shrugged Garrett. Marian nodded as if the thought hadn't struck her before.

"All right, so the ledger is kept locked in the Knight-Captain's office," said Marian as she peered through the locked gates at the Templar quarters.

"Knight-Captain? What about Meredith, or is a ledger of lyrium suppliers not suppressive enough to mages to interest the almighty Knight-Commander?"

"Obviously not," shrugged Marian. Without warning she nimbly leapt up the wall, scurrying up the construct as if she were a lizard of some sort, while her brother just locked up at her dumbfounded.

"And how in the name of Andraste's lacy knickers am I supposed to get up there?" whispered Garrett, glaring at his far more dexterous twin.

"Are you a mage or not? Figure it out." With a shrug Garrett cast a quick levitation spell, landing softly over the other side of the wall beside his sister.

"No more magic, though. Templars _can_ sense that sort of thing, you know?" Marian just waved at him to be quiet as she snuck through the halls of the Templar compound. She had directions to where the Knight-Captain's office and quarters were and her own sense of direction kept her from getting lost in the maze of rooms and corridors.

Several times she and Garrett had to duck into a secluded alcove or empty classroom as one of the night guards made their patrols through the halls, but they managed to reach the Knight-Captain's office without incident. Once at the door Marian pulled out her satchel of lockpicks.

"Wait," whispered Garrett, putting his hand on the door knob and giving it a twist. It didn't budge. At the annoyed look his twin gave him the mage just shrugged. "It was worth a shot."

Marian rolled her eyes and motioned her brother away from the door as she slid the lockpick into place, the door unlocking with a satisfying click after only a few short seconds. Marian grinned in triumph as she slipped through the door, silent as a wraith.

The Knight-Captain's room was Spartan, holding only a desk, a bookshelf, a trunk and simple single bed. Snoring obnoxiously loud was the Knight-Captain himself, tangled in his sheets. Marian didn't even spare the lump in the bed a glance as she moved toward the locked desk. This particular lock was a little m ore tricky than his door and Marian's tongue slipped out between her clenched teeth as she concentrated on the task at hand.

Garrett however moved to get a better look at the Knight-Captain. His was a face the mage would want to remember. Always best to know when to run and hide.

The large man rolled over onto his side, facing the mage and Garrett nearly yelped with surprise. He knew that face.

"Marian," he whispered. "Marian!"

"What, Garrett? Can't you see I'm a little busy here?" hissed Marian shooting a glare over her shoulder at her twin. He was pale, as if he'd seen a ghost. "Oh, sodding Maker, what is it?" she asked as crept to her brother's side. When she followed her brother's stares Marian felt her stomach flip over.

Cullen. She would recognise that handsome face anywhere. There he was, sleeping peacefully in his Knight-Captain bed after a long day oppressing mages.

"Maker, I think I'm going to be sick," mumbled Marian as she stalked back to the desk, quick to unlock it. She turned back to her brother with the ledger in her hands to see him still staring at the sleeping Knight-Captain. "Garrett!" she hissed.

"Hmm?" He turned to her distractedly. "Oh, yes, sorry. I'm just trying to see if there is some way to identify a Templar by their features, so you don't make the mistake of sleeping with another one, you know," grinned Garrett. Marian groaned. He would never let this go.

"If you keep it up, brother," growled Marian. "I'll be sure to take away your ability to sleep with anyone." Garrett grinned as the victor and followed Marian out of the Knight-Captain's rooms and into the night.

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><p><em>Nine Months<em>

"Garrett! Oh, Garrett such fantastic news!" Bethany was all, but humming with excitement as she hugged her brother around the middle. Garrett looked over at his twin who merely shrugged, just as confused as Garrett was.

"Did Gamlen die? Or did Cael find treasure?"

"No, silly," laughed Bethany, swatting him on the arm. "It's over. The Blight is over."

"But how?" asked Marian, now interested. They pulled their sister into the Hanged Man and sat her down.

"There were two Wardens who survived the Battle of Ostagar. One was actually King Maric's bastard son. Can you believe that?"

"I'd believe anything of Fereldan nobility," muttered Marian darkly.

"Anyway, the Wardens gathered friends of all races and marched on the Horde at Denerim. Their friends were…hang on…" Bethany screwed up her face, trying to recall the names. "There was Leliana, from Lothering. Remember Sister Leliana? Well, it turns out she was actually a bard from Orlais. There was also an apostate called Morrigan and a Qunari called Sten, the one that killed Lilith and her whole family," added Bethany sadly.

"There was also a dwarven warrior called Ohgren, a golem called Shale, an Enchanter by the name of Wynne and an Antivan Crow called Zevran. Together they fought the Darkspawn and then the Hero of Fereldan killed the Archdemon, and lived! Isn't that amazing? Oh, and they crowned Maric's bastard. I think his name was Alistair. He married Loghain's daughter, Queen Anora and made an elf, Shianni, Bann of the Alienage."

"But who is the Hero?" urged Garrett, his excitement mounting. Bethany looked a bit worried then, shooting a concerned glance at Marian.

"Umm…I'm not sure I should say," she mumbled. At that Marian knew who it was. She needed a drink, and a chair. Chair first.

"Maker," whispered Marian to herself.

"What?" asked Garrett, confused.

"Aeden. It's Aeden Cousland," answered Marian, her head in her hands. Bethany looked at her sister, surprised that she knew. "I had seen him one night before the Battle of Ostagar. He was joining the Wardens," she explained.

"Yes, well, it's said he had fallen in love with the apostate they travelled with, Morrigan, but…ah, she disappeared after the battle against the Archdemon."

"Scorned twice," smirked Marian. "The boy will never learn."

"Is there a story? About everything? I want to know everything," implored Garrett. "A handful of mismatched friends can hardly save an entire country."

"Well they first went through Lothering to the Circle of Magi. There they found the whole place overrun with abominations…" Bethany's voice fell into the background noise of Marian's mind. Aeden Cousland had somehow found a way to survive the massacre at Ostagar, unite Fereldan and kill the Archdemon. Yet, despite all of his heroics, she still could not bring herself to forgive him his wrongs. He might be known now as the Hero of Fereldan, but she could still taste his betrayals as bitter on her tongue as the day she'd felt them. No, Aeden Cousland was beyond Marian Hawke's redemption.

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><p><em>Twelve Months<em>

"I hate Kirkwall!" shrieked a drenched Marian as she scrambled on to the docks and threw the little box of lyrium powder at Athenril. The elf merely smiled and whisked herself off to headquarters, Marian's final job complete.

"No one can call you dishonest about your feelings," mocked Garrett, ducking Marian's boot as it whirled through the pelted rain toward him.

"It's been storming for three bloody weeks. It's worse than last year when we arrived," grumbled Marian, trying futilely to dry her clothes." A loud _bang_ drew everyone's attention seaward as what looked to be several ships exploded out at sea.

"Maker," cursed Garrett as the waves rocked the damaged boats, sending them toward the sharp cliffs of the Wounded Coast. "Someone has to help them."

"Well, let the City Guard do it," mumbled Marian, just wanting to find somewhere warm and dry and stay there.

* * *

><p>After a long hot bath Marian walked out into the kitchen to be greeted by a haggard and wet looking Aveline slumped in a kitchen chair, being served tea by Leandra.<p>

"What's wrong?"

"Didn't you see the shipwrecks?" asked AVeline, taking a sip from her cup. Marian sat down across from her friend. "There was one Rivaini ship and five Qunari warships. Apparently the Rivaini pirates had stolen something from the Qunari. Anyway no one on the raiders' ship survived, but we managed to save about seventy Qunari men. They're being lodged in an unused quadrant of the Docks for now. Maker, Marian." Aveline's voice was barely a whisper, her eyes hollow and sunken.

"You should have seen it. I've never seen bodies like that. I thought after the Darkspawn I'd seen it all, but these men, Marian, they had holes where stomachs and hearts were supposed to be." Aveline drew the blanket tighter across her shoulders. "The Qunari are not a people I would wish to cross," she whispered.

Marian just looked at her shellshocked friend, stunned that something could be so bad as to rattle Aveline. She traded glances with her mother, Leandra. Perhaps it was best if Aveline stayed with them for a few more days.


	7. Friends of Stature

**So I worked an eleven hour shift as a chef and still managed to write a chapter. Yeah, I'm amazing. What of it.**

**Anyway, as I'm sure you've been told Bioware actually owns Dragon Age and all its characters. Probably for the best. Who knows what evil deeds we'd all get up to if they belonged us :O. As always reviews are much appreciated.**

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><p><strong>Friends of Stature<strong>

Dwarves were always great swindlers and merchants, the two often going hand in hand. But Garrett knew that teaming up with a dwarf also meant a ridiculous sum of gold, if you watched them hard enough. So when rumours of Bartrand Tethras' Deep Roads Expedition reached his ears, Garrett took Marian to Hightown to find the dwarven merchant.

"No," was the first word out of the dwarf's mouth, hidden by a moustache thick enough to be classified as a beard. "Andraste's tits, human! You know how many people want to hire on to this expedition?"

"But we heard you're going into the Deep Roads. Surely you'll need all the help you can get," reasoned Marian, glaring at the pompous oaf. He was just as bright as Carver, only half the size.

"No," repeated Bartrand, putting up a hand to silence Marian. She scowled, thinking better of breaking his fat little fingers. He definitely wouldn't hire them then. "You're too late. Already done! This is the sort of venture that can make a man for life! I'm not about to take chances hiring random humans."

"I'll buy you a drink before we head into the Deep Roads," offered Garrett before Marian could retort against the dwarf. "Everyone wins!"

"Get in line, human," scoffed Bartrand. "Half of Kirkwall wants to be my best friend right now. You're looking for a quick way out of the slums, right? You and every other Fereldan in this dump. Find another meal ticket," farewelled the rude dwarf. Marian's hands twitched at her belt, but she thought better of embedding a knife in his thick neck. Even if Aveline was a City Guard, Marian was sure the whole incident wouldn't go down very well.

"What are we supposed to do now?" grumbled Garrett, grating on Marian's nerves. "We've got nothing to stop the next person who tries to sell us out. This expedition was our last chance."

"I can't spend my whole life looking over my shoulder for Templars, Garrett," snapped Marian, taking her anger at Bartrand out on her twin.

"If the Templars find me, the best I can hope for is to be locked away for the rest of my life," snapped Garrett through clenched teeth. "You know, on the off chance that they _don't_ kill me outright." Marian sighed; the closest Garrett would ever get to an apology.

"We need coin, status, something we can hide behind," admitted Marian, turning on her heel to return to Lowtown before the Kirkwall nobles started a rally against their presence.

"As long as we're refugees we're no one," agreed Garrett, keeping pace with his sister. Suddenly he stopped and Marian turned, raising an eyebrow at him. "Maybe Gamlen knows someone who can talk to Bartrand about this. He does know every lowlife in Kirkwall.

"Gamlen is the reason we've been here for a year," protested Marian, looking at her twin as if he had somehow been possessed by a replica of Carver perhaps, a demon of Stupidity.

"Hey, he did get us _in_ to Kirkwall and we've been safe so far," defended Garrett.

"You're only saying so because Mother said you looked like Gamlen did when he was younger," teased Marian, well aware that her jibe at poked at a raw spot. Pay back, she mused, for all those Templar jokes after Cullen.

"We might as well ask," answered Garrett, gritting his teeth against his sister's insensitivity. "Otherwise I don't know what we'll do." With a shrug Garrett continued at his pace, distracted by a storm of dark thoughts, of Templars and Bethany and their Father.

Out of nowhere a red haired youth bumped into Garrett's side, sending the mage reeling backwards a few steps.

"Hey!" shouted the mage, angered at the kid's rudeness.

"He's got your purse," growled Marian, unsheathing a throwing dagger. There was no need because a crossbow bolt whirred through the air pinning the would-be thief against a wall by his shoulder. He cried out in agony.

Marian turned her murderous glare to a richly dressed dwarf with red hair tied back in a ponytail, a shaved face and an impressive garden of chest hair sprouting from his loosened tunic. He cocked a very complex looking crossbow and the thing folding in on itself so he could clip it to his back.

"I knew a guy once who could take every coin out of your pockets just by smiling at you," remarked the dwarf with a smirk as he advanced on the urchin. "But you? You don't have the style to work Hightown, let alone the Merchants' Guild." He held out a palm and the boy reluctantly dropped the purse into his gloved hand. The dwarf smirk grew even wider.

"Might want to find yourself a new line of work," advised the dwarf, socking the youth with a mean left hook and ripping out his crossbow bolt. Terrified and in agony the boy sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him to the stairs that descended from Hightown into Lowtown and Darktown.

The dwarf grinned at the Hawke twins, striding toward them with a cocky gait, twirling the bloodied bolt between his fingers as he threw the purse to Garrett. Marian sheathed her swords as he stopped before them.

"How do you do?" greeted the dwarf with a smile. "Varric Tethras, at your service." Varric glanced toward the Merchant's Guild where Bartrand had disappeared in to. The dwarf shook his head.

"I apologise for Bartrand. He wouldn't know an opportunity if it hit him square in the jaw."

"But you would," surmised Marian with a roll of her bright blue eyes.

"I would," agreed Varric with a wicked grin. "What my brother doesn't realise is we need someone like you, both of you. He would never admit it, either – he's too proud. I, however, am quite practical."

"You seem a little _too _smooth," observed Garrett.

"Yes, he said he didn't need another guard," agreed Marian, gaging the dwarf through narrowed eyes.

"We don't need another hireling," admitted Varric. "We need a partner! The truth is Bartrand's been tearing his beard out trying to fund this expedition on his own, but he can't do it. Invest in the expedition. Fifty sovereigns and he can't refuse. Not with me there to vouch for you."

"I hope there's more to this," groaned Garrett, squeezing the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb. "Like how we're supposed to get that much coin together."

"You need to think big," proclaimed Varric. "There's only a brief window after a Blight when the Deep Roads won't be crawling with Darkspawn. The treasure you find down there could set you and your family up for life! We work together, you and I, and before you know it, you'll have all the capital you need. What do you say?" His eyes flicked from one Hawke to the next eagerly.

"I wasn't planning on doing anything else today," shrugged Garrett, looking to his twin as always for the final word.

"If this is a trick, you'll pay for it, dwarf," warned Marian in her best agreement voice. Garrett grinned. Excellent. He was thirsty and wanted a drink.

"We should talk privately, when you get the chance," offered Varric. "In the Hanged Man, maybe?"

"Maker," praised Garrett, throwing his hands to the heavens. "A dwarf after my own heart." Varric chuckled at the mage while Marian rolled her eyes. At least she was all for a drink. Kirkwall was hot.


	8. Dwarves And Why We SHould Kill Them All

**Sorry I haven't written in a while. Work has not been conducive to writing of late.**

**Once again this is Bioware's toybox, I just sneak in and mess it up while they're away. R and R please.  
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><p><strong>Dwarves and Why We Should Kill Them All<strong>

Many things may have changed in the year the Hawkes had been in Kirkwall, but the Hanged Man remained blissfully constant. Varric's palatial suite above the tavern floor was quiet, isolated and, above all else, clean. Those three things alone were a surprise to the tavern's regular Hawke twins.

The dwarf ordered them both ale and sat them down at his large wooden table. Garrett marvelled at how few scratches and knife dents there was in the table. He never even knew the Hanged Man had a table so untarnished.

"I have got to hand it to you, dwarf," started Marian as she reclined into her soft padded chair. "You do know how to live." Varric chuckled from the head of the table.

"The life of a younger brother does have its perks, Hawke." Marian raised a glass to that, knowing full well how much easier life was for their younger brother and sister, much to Carver's chagrin.

"Maybe you should give some pointers to ours," suggested Garrett, emptying his ale in a few mouthfuls.

"While ale and idle talk is nice," interrupted Marian, earning her a pointed amber glare from Garrett. "I'm sure you wanted to talk to us for a reason."

"You need coin."

"We are aware of that, dwarf," grunted Marian, glaring at the half-sized man as he grinned into his mug.

"Well I just might be able to rustle you up some work for a contact of mine." Varric raised his eyebrows over his mug while Marian glared him.

"Go on," she urged, rolling her eyes at the dwarf. He harrumphed.

"You are no fun, Hawke."

"Stating the obvious, friend," agreed Garrett with a lopsided grin while his sister turned to glare at her mage twin.

"His name is Anso and he needs help recovering a few…supplies."

"Lyrium." Marian had worked the smuggling game for a year now. Lyrium was all anyone in the underworld traded in. It might have had something to do with the garrison of Templars stationed at the Gallows. Maybe.

"Yes, well, he needs help, he has coin, so I say let's check it out," shrugged Garrett. What was one more lyrium swindle?

"Time and place, dwarf."

"After sunset in the Lowtown Market."

"Tell him to be there, and make sure you're there, too. I'll be bringing my own reinforcements." With that Marian left and Garrett hastily followed, giving Varric an awkward wave and an apologetic smile. Varric just chuckled and drained his mug.

"Somehow I don't think life will be boring with those two."

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><p>Marian was tapping her foot impatiently. Obviously punctuality was not a courtesy observed by lyrium smuggling dwarves. She, Garrett, Bethany, Carver and Varric had been waiting for nearly an hour. They'd got themselves into a small scuffle with some street thugs and now Marian was bored. And angry.<p>

Garrett was definitely picking up on the angry vibe as his sister began pacing. She opened her mouth, no doubt ready to let fly a string of curses that would make an Antivan whore blush when a skittish looking dwarf turned the corner, glancing up at the sky as if it were about to swallow him up.

"Are you Anso?" snapped Marian and the dwarf jumped as if seeing their group for the first time.

"Sweet mother of Partha," cursed the dwarf, clutching his chest and letting out a deep breath. "You can't just run up on someone like that." Garrett eyed the dwarf a little warily. Was he soft in the head? He had practically walked into them. "Are you…are you the ones that smuggler told me about? The ones looking for….work?" Marian shot a glance at Varric who shrugged innocently.

"We used to work for Athenril if that's what you mean," offered Bethany, causing Marian's glare to turn on her. Marian cursed herself for bringing her baby sister. The girl was a fool half the time and naïve to boot, but they needed a healer and Garrett was hopeless at healing anything more than a papercut.

"Yes, it is…what I mean…that is," blurted Anso before taking a deep breath. "My apologies, human. I haven't been on the surface very long. I keep thinking I'll to fall up into that sky any minute." Varric chuckled from behind the siblings, drawing Garrett's attention as the dwarf leant toward him.

"Bartrand used to be like that," he chuckled. "Got jumpy every time he stepped outside." Garrett grinned in disbelief, shaking his head.

"Dwarves are funny," he muttered, turning his attention back on Anso.

"But I digress," continued Anso, eyes on Marian. "I need some help, rather badly in fact. Some product of mine has been….misplaced. The men who were supposed to deliever it decided not to. If you retrieve my property I could reward you handsomely." Marian narrowed her eyes at the dwarf. He wasn't telling her something and she didn't like it. Not one bit.

"This better be worth it," spat Marian, turning on heel and stprmong away, her mismatched group following.

"Thank you!" Called out Anso. "They should be in the Alienage!"

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><p>Alienages were never exactly nice places to visit even in the day time. The elves glared at human 'intruders' who outnumbered them or had better weapons and those that didn't risked losing vital organs such as hearts or lungs or livers to the sharp edge of a rusted blade.<p>

Garrett had nothing in particular against elves, but he was quite certain they had a few things against him personally, merely for being born taller and with round ears. Their mistrust and racism made him feel nervous about being anywhere near the Alienage and his felt his fingers tingle with magic as they crept through its alleyways in the night.

"There it is," pointed out Carver, loudly, earning him a solid slap to the back of the head from Marian.

"Really, idiot? We don't all have a pair of eyes or anything." Carver muttered darkly about something he was going to do to her eyes, but she ignored him, instead turning to Varric who eyed the place suspiciously.

"Looks dead."

"It _looks_ like a trap," retorted Marian. "If your friend is trying to kill me I will kill every dwarf in Kirkwall and then march on Orzammar itself. I've had my fill of shady dwarves for the day." Varric just grinned, a spark in his eye.

"Now _that_ would make for a great story, Hawke." She just rolled her eyes at him while Garrett grinned and winked at Varric.

"Void take it," cursed Marian after a few minutes and began storming up to the hideout. There was only one way to find out if it was a trap and if she would have to genocide the whole dwarven nation.

It was a trap.

_What a surprise_, thought Garrett as he hurled spell after spell at the slave hunters. People were trying to kill them. It seemed to be happening with increasing regularity and he thought it should probably bother him more than it did.

Marian was ecstatic. Not only was she killing things – people - and venting some frustration at finding _nothing_ in the house, she would also get to kill all the dwarves. And she would start with Anso, and then maybe Varric for setting this whole 'job' up.

Marian was splattered in gore and grinning like a maniac when a dark haired man rounded the corner, narrowing his dark beady eyes at her. Marian smiled. More fun.

"I don't know who you are, friend," sneered the man, strutting toward her as if her were the Knight-Commander. "But you made a serious mistake coming here. Lieutenant! I want everyone in the clearing, now!"

Garrett chuckled as nothing happened and fear finally crossed the man's face. A shuffle of boots was heard behind him and he turned around to see a man covered in blood, clutching at a stomach wound stumble toward them. As he feel his intestines spilled out from beneath his fingers and Bethany turned to vomit at the sight.

"Your men are dead," came a deep, accented voice that made Marian's hair stand on end. A white haired, muscular elf rounded the corner with a hard glare in his forest green eyes. "And your trap has failed. I suggest running back to your master while you can."

The elf passed the captain and looked at Marian approvingly and she narrowed her eyes at him. He might be devilishly handsome for an elf and covered in markings like she'd never seen before, but no one, not even tattooed, gorgeous elves looked at her as if she was a sword for sale in a smithy.

"You're going nowhere, slave," growled the captain, placing a hand on the elf's spiked pauldrons, which Garrett thought wasn't a smart move. They looked sharp. Suddenly the elf began to glow with a bright blue light and Garrett felt his magic respond and begin glowing around his hands. One l;ook at Bethany told him his sister felt it, too; lyrium.

The elf whirled around with a speed Marian would not have believed possible and plunged his hand into the man's chest, right _through_ his armour. He pulled it back out, holding the man's still beating heart in his clawed gauntlet. The surprise on the man's face before he died was almost comical.

"I am not a slave," growled the elf as he pulverised the organ in his hand and the man fell to the cobblestones. This time Bethany was completely overwhelmed with nausea and was on her hands and knees vomiting.

"I apologise," began the elf, his green eyes darting over to where Garrett held a faint looking Bethany up on her feet. "When I asked Anso to provide a distraction for the hunters I had no idea they'd be so….numerous." The elf seemed to be struggling with his words, as if the language did not come easily to him. Coupled with his proper accent Marian was certain he was foreign.

"So…they were after you." Marian folded her arms and rested her weight on one leg.

"Yes," growled the elf, clenching his clawed gauntlets and turning to face Marian with a hard edge in his eyes. "My name is Fenris. This men were Imperial bounty hunters seeking to recover a magister's lost property; namely, myself." Garrett sighed inside. _Great. An elf and a magister's ex-slave to boot. I can just tell he and I will become great friends._

"They were trying to lure me into the open," explained Fenris while Marian watched him, sizing him up as a potential threat or ally. It could really go either way at this point. He was strong, that much was evident. His was very muscular for an elf and if that giant sword was any indication of strength he probably fought like a faster, better trained version of Carver. Difficult, but entirely impossible. His armour, strong and movable though it was still had weak points and Marian noted each place were a fatal blow could be landed.

"Crude as their methods were, I could not face them alone," admitted Fenris with a shrug. "Thankfully, Anso chose wisely."

"If they were really trying to recapture you, then I'm happy I helped," shrugged Marian, earning her awestruck expressions from every other person around her. She wasn't going to blow up? Kill him? Kill everyone? Marian was being _reasonable_? Garrett never thought he'd see the day.

"I have met few in my travels who have sought anything more than personal gain," replied the elf with a gentle surprise colouring his voice. "If I may ask, what was in the chest? The one they kept in the house." Marian narrowed her eyes at that. So there _was _supposed to have been something in the chest.

"It was empty," answered Marian, watching Fenris carefully for his reaction. The elf merely sighed.

"I suppose it was too much to hope for," he answered, more to himself than anyone in particular. "Even so I had to know."

"You didn't to _lie_ to get our help," interjected Bethany as she leaned against Garrett. Marian just rolled her blue eyes at her naïve little sister.

"_That_ remains to be seen," snapped the elf as he turned to rummage through the dead captain's pockets. Marian couldn't help herself admiring the view. For an elf on the run he had a lot of meat on his bones and in all the right places.

"It's as I thought," growled Fenris, a hard edge to his voice. "My former master accompanied them to the city. I know you have questions, but I must confront him before he flees. I will…need your help." Marian shrugged. Either way she got to kill something and she better be getting paid for it.

"If it means fighting more slavers I will help you." The elf nodded in gratitude.

"I will find a way to repay you. I swear it." Marian nodded. At least he knew she wasn't giving charity. "The magister is staying in a mansion in Hightown. Meet me there as soon as you can. We must enter before morning." Marian narrowed her eyes again. She was not a child. She knew how to work an ambush. With that the elf disappeared.

"So I guess we're off to Hightown to kill a magister and help an elf who is no doubt extremely prejudiced toward magic," said Garrett, glaring at Marian. Why pick _now_ to become suddenly reasonable.

"Yes and if you have a problem with it you can accompany Carver and Bethany home," sneered Marian.

"Home!"

"I'm okay. Really, Marian. I want to-" Marian held up her hand, silencing them.

"No. I said home and I meant it. A magister is no joke and mother will probably skin me for letting you both come along tonight. Home. Now!" she added as Carver opened his mouth. Bethany dragged her twin in the direction of Gamlen's hovel and Marian nodded, ready to get this night over and done with.

"All in all, not a bad night, Hawke," praised Varric with a grin. Marian turned a malicious blue eye on the dwarf.

"It was still a trap, dwarf. One that nearly got us killed. I'm still going to kill all the dwarves in Kirkwall and Orzammar. I just have to find Anso first, but mark my words, dwarf, you are next."


End file.
